


Life with Derek: Blank Space Remix

by unoriginal_liz



Series: Five (+1) Rooms with a View [5]
Category: Life with Derek
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Never Met, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-19
Updated: 2010-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 22:37:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6060709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unoriginal_liz/pseuds/unoriginal_liz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not George and Nora who got married, but Abby and Dennis - Derek's mom and Casey's dad.  Basically Casey and Derek end up with a timeshare room :)</p>
<p>
  <i>STAY OUT OF MY PRIVATE THINGS.  THIS INCLUDES MY DREAM DIARY.   I hope this clarifies the situation for you. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life with Derek: Blank Space Remix

**Author's Note:**

> Not much to say...Derek and Casey flirt/fight/establish a relationship through the medium of a dream-diary.

_**“I feel terrible about Derek. I’ve been so concentrated on my own studies, I’ve completely neglected his!”** _

*****

When Casey’s dad remarried, it was – well, it was...strange.

Strange good though. Strange very _very_ good. Who knew that the fact that his whirlwind romance was living in Toronto would be the push her dad needed to move back home? And Casey wasn’t even jealous (mostly), because she told herself that it was probably something her dad was considering anyway, since, you know, he had a _family_ in Toronto. He probably didn’t need very _much_ of a push. More of a gentle nudge, really.

And who cared (most of the time) _why_ he had moved back to Toronto, when the important thing was that he _was_ back? And okay, moving back to Toronto didn’t mean that he was there all the time...or even most of the time, since he still spent a lot of time overseas, wheeling and dealing and making Casey even prouder of him, if that were possible. But he _was_ there _more_. And that was the important thing, so Casey focused on that.

The wedding had been a rushed affair, because of her dad’s schedule. And Abby had wanted to keep it small and simple, because it was her second marriage as well. Casey had approved, of course. Even though that meant that she and Lizzie hadn’t been able to attend the wedding. It didn’t _matter_ , really. And it wasn’t like Abby’d had her family there either.

Even though Casey kept telling herself that it didn’t matter and how happy she was and how thrilled she was that her dad had met (and married) Abby, it came as a complete surprise to her when he finally introduced them...and Casey liked her.

And not just because she was the reason her dad had bought an apartment in Toronto. She actually liked Abby.

Abby was smart (she was working on a PhD in marine biology), and nice, with a good sense of humour. And she liked them – which was a good thing, because her dad was away very often, and he had said to Casey, ‘You’ll visit Abby, won’t you?’ And even if she’d started doing that because her dad had sort-of asked her, she kept doing it because she and Abby got along.

It worked out so well, that the spare room in the apartment sort of...turned into Casey’s room. There was a cot for Lizzie, of course, but...Casey had her own desk and her own bookcase and her own...decor. Because some weekends, when Abby was in London visiting her children, Casey stayed over and she and her dad had some quality time. It wasn’t as often as she would have liked, but...that was what quality time meant, right? That you always wanted more?

All in all, it had turned into a very satisfactory arrangement.

Until she realized that, great as Abby was, she came with baggage.

*****

The first warning Casey got was the long phone call on Monday evening. On Mondays Lizzie had soccer and her mom had book-club, so Casey spent those evenings at her dad’s place.

“Sorry,” Abby said absently, when she came back into the kitchen.

“It’s okay,” Casey said, and gestured to the remains of Abby’s casserole. “Do you want me to heat that up for you?”

Abby shook her head. “No, no, it’s fine.”

“Is...everything okay?” Casey asked. “You seem a little distracted.”

“No, nothing’s wrong. Well, not...too much, I think,” Abby said, with a rueful smile. “Just – Derek’s coming here this weekend ...would it be okay if he used your room?”

“Derek – your son, Derek? Of course,” Casey said.

Abby sighed. “Thanks, Casey. It’s...” she shook her head. “He’s the same age as you are but he’s really – different. George is finding it hard to keep him focused, and school is...more of a problem than usual. George thinks a change of scenery might be good for him.” In a dry tone of voice, she said, “More specifically, a change of scenery where he doesn’t know anyone and can’t do anything except study.”

Casey nodded.

“It...might be for a few weekends,” Abby cautioned. “Are you sure you don’t mind sharing your room?”

“Of course not!” Casey said. “Education is vital – if this helps him get back on track, I’m completely behind it.”

Abby smiled. “Thank you, Casey. I really wish Derek shared your attitude.”

*****

Casey conscientiously stayed out of the way that weekend. Her dad was still in France, which made it easier.

“How did it go?” Casey asked the Monday after, as she and Abby ate their pasta.

“Okay,” Abby seemed tired, but optimistic. “I wasn’t expecting it to be a roaring success the first weekend, but...it wasn’t bad, all things considered. Only one jailbreak.”

Casey blinked.

“Marti came down Saturday too, so it wasn’t all no-fun and no-games. Sunday was harder. Still...I don’t know, it could be the lack of sleep talking, but...I have a good feeling about Operation Crackdown.”

After dinner, Casey and Abby usually spent an hour or two studying – Abby at the kitchen table, and Casey at her desk. Except this time, when Casey opened the door to her room, there was a problem.

The thing that affected her most wasn’t the fact that her travel bag of makeup had been emptied across the floor. It wasn’t even the fact that matchstick figures drawn in mascara ( _her_ mascara) now played under a shiny lipgloss sky on previously Blossom-white walls, at six-year-old height.

It was the fact that her spare dream diary was no longer _inside_ her bedside locker, but on top of it...

…and _open_.

She stormed out of the room and back into the kitchen. Abby looked up from her pile of books.

“Everything okay?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

She really did look tired.

Casey made a quick decision. “Just...getting a drink.”

“Help yourself,” Abby said absently, as she went back to jotting down notes.

“And while I’m here, I might as well take a basin of hot water and a cloth. Just in case I spill,” Casey said.

“Mm-hmm, sure,” Abby said, frowning down at her notepad – and Casey suddenly figured out how such wanton destruction had been allowed to occur in her sanctuary.

“Your kids are coming down next weekend too, right?”

“Hmm?”

Casey sighed and took that as a yes.

After she had cleaned her wall, and thrown away the remains of her lipgloss and mascara, she carefully examined her dream diary. Apart from the fact that it was open and turned face down on top of her bedside locker, there was nothing else amiss. It wasn’t torn, and no mascara people danced their way across the pages.

She couldn’t decide whether the worst thing was that someone had totally and completely invaded her privacy by reading her dream diary...or that they had been able to stop at page five.

*****

Before the next visit of the children from hell, Casey worked out a three-pronged strategy.

Firstly, she enlisted Lizzie’s help in assembling an activity box for Marti. It contained: crayons, paper, two jigsaw puzzles, a Bananagram, and some picture books.

Secondly, she wrote a letter, and left it on top of her bedside locker – the scene of the (most heinous) crime.

_Dear Derek,_

_It is with much concern, distress, and annoyance that I submit this letter in response to certain conduct by you and members of your family (namely your younger sister, Marti)._

_Before your visit, my room was neat, clean and free of graffiti. However, over the two day period of your stay, several incidents occurred to change this state of affairs. Firstly, someone (I am assuming your sister) scribbled on the walls with makeup (expensive makeup, by the way). Secondly, although my trashcan was in plain view, I discovered a variety of food wrappers in different locations around the room (incidentally, that’s really unhygienic and disgusting). Thirdly, before vacating the premises, you neglected to remake the bed._

_However, by far the most upsetting occurrence was the fact that someone (I assume you , since it is unlikely a six year old would understand either my vocabulary or my cursive writing style) violated my privacy and read my dream diary. Although I find it disturbing that you would actually do something as despicable as that (and not even bother to try to hide the evidence!) , I will assume that this is an issue of immaturity and ignorance of basic social conventions, rather than a deliberately malicious act. This is why I am issuing the following warning._

_STAY OUT OF MY PRIVATE THINGS. THIS INCLUDES MY DREAM DIARY. I hope this clarifies the situation for you._

_While I am sure that these are isolated incidents , and will not occur again – since we may be sharing this room for some time, I feel it best to outline some clear rules, to prevent any future misunderstandings._

_1) The privacy of the primary occupant of the room (that is, Casey McDonald), will be respected by the temporary guest (namely, Derek Venturi). See above re: dream diary._

_2) The temporary guest (Derek Venturi), will ensure that his younger siblings behave in a socially appropriate manner (i.e. being respectful of private property) when they are in the room of the primary occupant (Casey McDonald)._

_3) Edible materials should be consumed in the kitchen. This will ensure that the primary occupant (Casey McDonald) does not have to deal with either the crumbs of the temporary guest (Derek Venturi) or the ants attracted by the crumbs left by the temporary guest (ibid). Exceptions may be made for beverages, in special cases._

_I am sure these ground rules will enable and ensure a peaceful co-existence for as long as is deemed necessary._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Casey McDonald._

Thirdly, she hid her dream diary underneath the mattress.

*****

The following Monday, when Casey checked her room, the walls were bare of art...but the bed had not been made, and her dream diary was once again on top of her bedside locker.

She stood for a moment, gazing in open-mouthed shock, before she snatched up her dream diary. There, underneath her description and analysis of the dream where she had to make her way across the street to her dad and Abby’s apartment building, but was surrounded by myriad tiny puddles that she couldn’t step in because she just knew they were deeper than they looked – was a scrawled message.

**Who thinks this much when they sleep? Isn’t that supposed to be when your brain shuts down?**

And then, in parentheses –

**(I read through your whole book – where was the cursing? I’ve got two words for you – false advertising).**

Casey clenched her fists and took a deep breath before grabbing a pen and writing PRIVATE across her dream diary in block capitals. Then she opened the book to Derek’s message, and wrote –

_STOP reading my dream journal! It’s invasive and rude, and while that probably is how you operate in day to day life – this is **my** room, and you have to follow **my** rules._

_*By the way, your brain is just as active when you sleep as when you are awake. (So, in your case – your brain is probably in a permanent state of ‘shut down’). And although to the uninformed (i.e. you), dreams might appear to be random or meaningless, analysis can reveal important hidden meanings._

This time, she left the dream journal where it was. It was _HER_ room after all – why should she have to hide her own belongings?


End file.
